


The Tainted Touch of My Caress

by HalosandSeeds



Series: You and Me [2]
Category: Marilyn Manson (Band), Nine Inch Nails (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Drug Use, Finger Sucking, M/M, Overdosing, Rough Sex, Slight trigger warning, Trent topping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 14:04:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11106102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalosandSeeds/pseuds/HalosandSeeds
Summary: “I knew you couldn’t stay away,” Trent smiled, cheek pressed against the wall, Marilyn’s fingers running through his hair and then giving it a slight pull. Trent moaned at being handled this way and closed his eyes, allowing Marilyn to do whatever he wanted. He always did in the past.OrApparently, Marilyn can’t get enough of Trent despite the tension between them.





	1. Fuck You

**Author's Note:**

> The title is lyrics taken from “Reptile” from Nine Inch Nails’s album The Downward Spiral. 
> 
> Get ready for more emotion and be warned!

Trent awoke with a groan, feeling worse than he had felt last night. Last night… He couldn’t remember much. There was the bar, the music, the noise… Marilyn…

 

Trent shot up in bed despite the splitting headache that followed from his abrupt movements and looked around. He was in his own room in his own bed, and Marilyn was nowhere to be seen. Trent’s heart sank, and he sighed, gingerly alighting from the mattress and stumbling to the door of the bathroom to wash up and attempt to rid his breath of the aftertaste of vomit. The noise of the shower going stopped him, and he paused at the door until he heard someone shut the faucet off. That someone sighed heavily on the other side of the door, and the shower curtain rattled as it was pushed over. Tentatively, Trent bit his lip and turned the knob, opening the door slightly.

 

A very wet and very naked Marilyn appeared on the other side with a towel in hand, quickly glancing up when he heard the intrusion. “Fuck!” he cursed loudly and hastily wrapped the towel around his waste. That didn’t stop Trent from catching a glimpse of his ample sized dick, though.

Trent grimaced and shaded his eyes to block the light from the bathroom. Attempting to seem as disinterested as possible, he muttered his good morning and walked out- though not without a sly smile to himself at the scene he just walked in on.

 

Marilyn stared. “Random…” he muttered and threw on his clothes from the night before. His cheeks blushed a light shade of pink when his thoughts reverted back to the brief moment when Trent walked in on him naked. His heart fluttered, and he almost hated himself for it. _Fuck, it’s not like we haven’t seen each other naked before!_ Back in Trent’s bedroom, he picked up the telephone and called a cab to be there in a few hours. _Trent doesn’t need me. It’s not like anyone does anyway. I’ll just make sure he’s okay for today and…_ He shook his head. After patting his hair dry and mentally preparing himself, Marilyn went downstairs to find Trent sitting at the table with only a glass of water.

 

“Aren’t you going to have breakfast?” Marilyn asked, kicking himself for glancing at him twice.

 

Trent only shook his head, not bothering to look at him.

 

“You look like shit.”

 

Trent grunted and glared up at the man rummaging through his fridge. “Thanks.” The next question burst from his mouth before he could stop himself, but he was hungover, irritated, and quite frankly did not give any fucks whatsoever. “What are you still doing here?”

 

Marilyn turned and blinked. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m taking care of your ass.”

 

Trent snorted. “Well, don’t,” he said dryly. “I can take care of myself.”

 

Sighing in frustration, Marilyn turned back to the fridge and pulled out milk and then some cereal from the pantry. “Okay, Trent,” he replied, sarcasm dripping from his tongue. Placing his breakfast in front of him, Marilyn sat down across from Trent and slid two Aspirin his way. “Here. You must feel like shit as well.”

 

Trent took the pills without a word and said nothing. The short responses and tense silence were really starting to get on Marilyn’s last nerve. “Are you going to actually try and form a conversation, or are you leaving that up to me again?” He almost wished he could take back the last bit the sooner it left his mouth. Trent stared, and Marilyn longed to be six feet under, anywhere but beneath the dark, piercing gaze of the man sitting before him.

 

“That’s bullshit,” Trent stated nonchalantly.

 

“Really?” Marilyn asked curtly, folding his hands together in a somewhat wary position.

 

“Mm.” Trent’s eyes narrowed, and his gaze hardened. Both seemed ready to fight already, yet even after the most difficult moment of silence, Trent chuckled and rolled his eyes, digging into his food. “Can we not start the day this way? Especially if you’re going to be staying here for the time being.”

 

Marilyn sniffed and threw his hands up in defense. “Whatever. But I can’t excuse how fucking moody you can get.”

 

“I have a headache!” Trent exclaimed with a pained, forced laugh. “I’m fucking hungover for Christ’s sake. Give me a fucking break!”

 

“Well, you’re giving me a headache…” Marilyn mumbled, crossing his arms and slumping in his seat, glowering over at the man across from him.

 

Trent pursed his lips together and glanced down for a brief moment that left Marilyn in a strained position mentally and emotionally before snapping his head up and saying, “You know what? Forget it.” Marilyn raised an eyebrow and watched him get up and stomp towards the sink, dumping his barely eaten breakfast down the drain. “Forget about ‘feeding me’ and ‘caring for me’ and ‘staying with me’ because all of a sudden you’ve decided to be _noble_ and take pity on me. Here’s a newsflash for you, _Brian_ : I don’t need your fucking pity, and I certainly don’t need another person in my life judging my actions. Not like you still care, right? So here!” At this, he brushed past Marilyn, heading straight for the front door, and opening it wide. “The door’s open. Walk on out. Leave. It’s what you do best, right?”

 

Neither said anything for what seemed like hours upon hours. The tension soaked the room, filling it as if it would drown the both of them, but finally Marilyn broke the ice and got up from his seat. Slowly he began to clap, sardonically, applauding Trent’s little show of frustration. “Oh well done, Reznor,” he sneered, approaching him and the open door. “Well done. So if this is what you wanted to talk about all along, then why not? Let’s go for it, cut right to the fucking chase.” Shutting the door with a careless flick of his wrist, Marilyn leaned over him and placed his palms against the door on either side of Trent’s head.

 

Trent reddened deeply and glared up at the towering man above him. God, at this point he wished he was at least a foot taller than his normal height. So he could knock Brian out. Marilyn on the other hand had the strong urge to squeeze the fucking life out of Trent’s thin frame. And squeeze hard. Staring at that slender, _beautiful_ neck, Marilyn wasn’t sure whether he wanted to wrap his hands around it or kiss it. Instead, he spoke.

 

“You know what your fucking problem is?” he spat. “I left you because you drove me out. Yes. You. You fucking pushed me away because I _no longer needed you._ And you hated that. Look at yourself! You’re controlling and miserable and self-pitying-“

 

“Oh I’m self-pitying?” Trent shot back in disbelief. “’Oh, no one understands me! No one will get me on their label!’ No one saw your fucking potential except for me, and what happened? You came crawling back to me. _I_ made you. And now look at you! You’ve used and sucked everyone dry, _especially_ me to get to the top. Well congratulations, little miss prima donna god of fuck dope show clown! You did it. I hope you’re fucking happy with where it’s got you.”

 

Rolling his eyes and raising his hands in feigned defeat, Marilyn retorted snidely, “As opposed to Mr. NIN, Now I’m Nothing? Guess what, Trent! Now you ARE nothing!”

 

That was a jab neither expected, especially Trent from his best friend, his lover, or his potential arch enemy. All of a sudden, his face contorted into a rage Marilyn had seen before, a quiet but deadly rage. Shoving Marilyn back at least two feet with a force he didn’t even know he had, Trent snapped hatefully, “Fuck you!”

 

Marilyn stumbled and blinked in surprise, and then his demeanor hardened to one of equal caliber. With his hands at Trent’s chest, he pushed him twice until his back hit the door. “Fuck. You.”

 

Trent was so light and small compared to him, it was nothing to get him up against the wall, head banging and wincing from the sharp pain in the back of his head. In one second, they simply stared at one another, breathing heavily, longing to kill one another in this race for another Hell. Then Marilyn drew in, grabbed Trent’s face in his hands, and kissed him.

 

It felt as though Trent’s heart had stopped completely, and a wave of nostalgia at being kissed this way washed over him, causing him to shudder. The kiss was passionate, lustful, and Marilyn made sure that he was the one in control as he grabbed both of Trent’s wrists in his hands and held them over his head against the door, pinning his body over Trent’s so that he seemed to dominate him entirely. As soon as Trent realized what Marilyn was doing to him, he attempted to match his frenzied, wild kissing with some of his own. Tongues battled and fought for dominance, and the sound of their sweet moans filled the air as they remained locked in their tight embrace.

 

Suddenly Trent deepened the kiss and rubbed his body against Marilyn’s as he bit his bottom lip and sucked hard, almost hoping to draw blood. Marilyn grunted approvingly and broke away, gasping for air. His lips went for Trent’s neck next, and the latter moaned shamelessly as he mouthed and sucked on the flesh, tonguing and nipping his way down his throat until he reached his collarbone, which he bit into slightly.

 

Trent’s breath hitched in his throat, and he grinned devilishly. “I’m still angry with you,” he murmured and leaned his head back as his dominator continued to attack his neck mercilessly.

 

“Shut the fuck up,” Marilyn hissed between kisses as his lips slowly made their way back to Trent’s to silence him.

 

“Then fuck me.”

 

“What the fuck does it look like I’m trying to do?” To prove his point, Marilyn grabbed ahold of Trent’s collar of his button down shirt and ripped it open down the middle, a few buttons coming undone and flying everywhere. “Believe me, Reznor,” Marilyn mused, satisfied at the whimper that escaped Trent’s mouth when he exposed him, “you’re going to get fucked.”

 

Trent looked smug and drew him in for another sultry kiss enough to melt his lips. When he pulled back, it wasn’t far; their breaths mingled and both could feel the heat radiating from each other’s mouths. “What took you so long?” he whispered, and Marilyn stopped for a moment, taken aback by the unexpected question. This gave Trent the chance for ultimate control. Placing Marilyn’s hands on his hips and wrapping his own arms around his neck, Trent ushered him out of the foyer and directed him towards his bedroom, keeping his lips locked to Marilyn’s without a moment to draw breath.

 

“Fuck you,” he murmured, pushing him on the bed and unzipping his pants.


	2. Use You

“Fuck…” Closing his eyes and smiling contentedly, Trent fell back against the pillows as Marilyn released his softening cock from his mouth, gently pressed a quick kiss against his hip, and collapsed on the mattress next to him. Trent caught a whiff of sweat and sweet musk from the man lying lazily beside him and breathed in deeply. He longed to turn to the side and bury his face in that dark mop of hair, but he didn’t tell Marilyn this and decided not to act on the most secret thoughts roaming his mind at the moment. Instead he sat up, running his fingers through his own hair and slid off his bed, carelessly removing his sweat soaked shirt and letting it fall to the floor.

 

Marilyn watched everything Trent did with lidded eyes and felt his heart skip a beat when he removed the last bit of clothing from his body. Wetting his lips, he admired the way Trent’s back muscles flexed when he raised his arms to stretch and ruffle his hair and let his eyes linger on the soft curve of his ass. A quick, lewd scene played in Marilyn’s mind of his face shoved in between his cheeks, listening to Trent’s high moans and staggering breaths. Once Trent had exited to the bathroom and the sounds of the shower turning on reached his ears, Marilyn groaned and pressed his face into a pillow, irritated.

 

_What the hell is wrong with me? We just fucked. Do I hate him or what?_ Rather than pondering further over the strange and yet sexually satisfying turn of events, Marilyn jolted to attention as soon as he heard the sound of his cab beeping outside. Hissing obscenities and hoping Trent couldn’t hear him on the other side of the bathroom door, he jumped from the bed and quickly pulled on his leather pants and t-shirt. Marilyn frantically searched for the rest of his things and then grabbed a pen and a piece of paper, scribbling down a quick yet hopefully meaningful note. Suddenly Trent shut the water off, and Marilyn heard him step from the shower. Setting the note on the bed, Marilyn tentatively approached the door to the bathroom and raised his hand as if to knock.

 

The second beep of the cab forced him out of his thoughts, and he abruptly turned, shaking his head and walking out the door to his bedroom and out the door of his house. Opening the car door and sliding in slamming it shut, Marilyn slumped in his seat and crossed his arms. The cab driver turned and then stopped, blinking in shock. Marilyn realized that it was probably the way his hair looked and how his lipstick was smudged, the perfect appearance for after a good fuck. Either way, he didn’t much care to explain himself, especially to this stranger and definitely didn’t care for his blatant staring.

 

“Keep staring, buddy,” Marilyn grumbled, sliding further down in his seat. “See what will happen.” The cab driver turned back to face the wheel but not without a mumbled “fag” in response. Normally, Marilyn would have called a man like that to the stage just to humiliate him, but in this situation, he only turned his head to face the tinted view from the window and closed his eyes.

 

Trent emerged from the bathroom fully clothed and with the silliest grin on his face as he said, “You know, you still got it. I don’t know what happened really, and I can’t help feeling…” He stopped once he realized he was speaking to an empty room, and slowly his smile faded from the corners of his mouth. “Brian?” Upon receiving no answer, Trent stepped from his bedroom and called down the hallway, “Marilyn?” Still no answer. Eyebrows furrowed, he went back to his room and noticed the note lying on his mattress amidst the cum soaked sheets. With every word he read, every line he passed over, Trent’s expression hardened more and more until he looked like he could cry.

 

_I don’t hate you. But you’re right. All I’ve ever done is leave. Sorry._

“Of all the fucking excuses…” Trent muttered under his breath and then stopped, hearing his voice break. No. Dashing away the tears that formed in his eyes, he crumpled the note in his fist and tossed it aside, his face set, his mouth fixed in a thin, grim line. He gathered up his clothes from before and yanked the soiled sheets from his bed, stuffing them in the laundry basket. Acknowledging it won’t fucking make it better, Marilyn. Opening a drawer, Trent pulled out a small plastic bag. Coke never failed him. Cutting a few lines with a razor blade, Trent snorted one and then another before falling back against his mattress with the blade still in hand. What if he… Would Marilyn bother coming back? Only to find him soaked in his own blood.

 

Trent sighed heavily and placed the razor back in the drawer. He snorted a third line and then crawled back into bed, huddled against the pillows and surrounded by his own intrusive thoughts.

 

 

“Where to?”

 

Marilyn gave the address to Trent’s house and sat forward in his seat, anxious and guilt-ridden. He hated Trent sometimes, but at times like this, he wasn’t really certain if what he was feeling at the moment was hate or love. And yet love and hate are really the same components of one another. Both are painful and passionate and…

 

He knew he couldn’t simply leave. There was something about Trent that he longed for despite their flaws together. Nothing else was as satisfying, as sexy, as thrilling as to have him in his arms once more. When Marilyn had left, he left for himself. Had he known Trent was hurting? Did he know he needed him? Maybe he was too blind. At this point, he didn’t know how he felt exactly, if they could handle each other for one more go, one more round in this emotional rollercoaster. Perhaps he was rambling in his thoughts, or maybe he just loved the jackass. He didn’t know… All he knew was that he needed him at this moment more than ever, just as much as Trent needed him, whether he admitted it or not.

 

He arrived at Trent’s place shortly after and ran to the front door, ringing the doorbell repeatedly, hoping that he was home. Marilyn found he could breathe again as soon as he heard footsteps on the other side. His heart did not stop pounding until he saw his face. Trent opened the door and blinked up at Marilyn with those large, sad green eyes. Marilyn stared. Trent’s eyes looked red, bloodshot even, and one could wonder if he had been crying before.

 

Before he could say a word, Marilyn gripped his shoulders and pushed him back roughly with his lips pressed against his hungrily, greedily, passionately. He heard Trent’s sigh and shoved his tongue into his mouth to silence him. When Trent ran his hands up his sides to remove his leather jacket, Marilyn stopped him and gripped his wrists, proceeding to turn him around and slam him against the wall, pressing his body flush against his and rubbing his already hardening bulge against his ass. Trent released a throaty gasp and closed his eyes, clawing at the wall despite Marilyn’s steel hold on his wrists.

 

“I knew you couldn’t stay away,” Trent smiled, cheek pressed against the wall, Marilyn’s fingers running through his hair and then giving it a slight pull. Trent moaned at being handled this way and closed his eyes, allowing Marilyn to do whatever he wanted. He always did in the past.

 

Marilyn gave a domineering grunt and continued to grind against him. “I don’t know what… you do to me… Reznor, but fuck you… for doing it.”

 

Trent’s grin subsided at his accusation, and he struggled against Marilyn’s weight, finally succeeding in turning around only to deliver a harsh, quick slap to his face. “No fuck you, Manson!” he growled. “Fuck you for that lousy note. Fuck you for leaving me again. Fuck you.” Just as angry as he had become, Trent also seemed to purr as he added once more against Marilyn’s full, delicious lips, “And _fuck you._ ”

 

Marilyn was speechless. Not just for being struck, but Trent’s emotions were erratic, wild, unpredictable. And with this show of dominance that made him grow even more, Marilyn allowed him to take him back to his room and shove him on his back on the bed. Quickly, he removed his jacket and shirt and then watched Trent take off everything, bare and exposed before him.

 

“You don’t get to take control,” Trent stated as he hooked his fingers into Marilyn’s pants and yanked them off in one fluid motion. Marilyn groaned as his length sprang out against the cool air, and Trent smirked and climbed on top of him, hovering over him with large eyes. “Let’s just get this over with, shall we?” Marilyn flung his head back and hissed through his teeth. Trent was practically grinding their lengths together in a thrilling display of dominance that Marilyn had never seen before in this way. “All you want to do is fill me with cum and leave again, right?”

 

“That’s not-“ Marilyn began but stopped once Trent reached for the lube on his bedside table. “Trent…”

 

Trent squeezed out a copious amount of the substance into his hand and covered Marilyn’s dick with it, rubbing and groping and occasionally teasing just for the pleasure of Marilyn’s distress. “Fuck me,” he demanded. “I’ll let you do it, but only this. Only because I’m just a good fuck to you.” Before Marilyn could argue, Trent lowered himself onto his aching cock, letting out a few moans and sharp breaths as he gradually filled himself. Once he was all the way in, he leaned back, steadying himself with his hands on the mattress and tugging at the sheets with a loud groan that reduced to a mere whimper.

 

Marilyn took that as his chance to fuck up into him, thrusting up inside of him once and watching him bite his lip as the pleasure set in. Trent flung his head back in ecstasy when he did it again and began to rock against him, riding him with each thrust going deeper and deeper. Adjusting himself on his elbows, Marilyn reached up a hand to smooth over his stomach and splay over his chest. When he reached up further, Trent took one of his fingers in his mouth and sucked, continuing to ride him. Marilyn groaned and let that hand slide down Trent’s body, smearing his spit over his beautiful, pale skin.

 

“Trent…” Marilyn sat up unexpectedly, still thrusting up inside of him. Trent stiffened at the proximity and gazed into Marilyn’s eyes, his own filled with lust but something else hidden behind that: discomfort, fear maybe?

 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Trent begged softly, meaning to be forceful, but hating himself for sounding so vulnerable.

 

Marilyn ignored him and pressed his lips against the flesh beneath his jaw. “Trent…” he breathed softly in his ear. “Let me…”

 

“No!” Trent cried and pushed him back down, scrambling to get off of him and off the bed. “Stop! This was a mistake.” Frantically he began putting on his clothes, keeping his back to Marilyn and hoping he wouldn’t see him tremble. “I shouldn’t have… I didn’t… I’m so fucking stupid!”

 

Marilyn listened to him stammer, stumble over his words, trying desperately not to lose himself then and there.

 

“I never should have thought I could have you all to myself,” Trent murmured, shaking his head as if he were attempting to deny what had just occurred moments ago. “It was all just a huge fucking mistake.”

 

“Stop saying that!” Marilyn exclaimed, struggling to put on his own clothes. He took one step forward, but Trent stopped him.

 

“You were right,” he said ruefully. “I’m miserable and controlling. I’ve controlled you for too long, and I won’t control the way I want you to feel about me.”

 

“Trent please-“ Marilyn began.

 

“Just go,” Trent pleaded, his voice breaking. “And for once I promise I won’t hate you for doing so.”

 

Marilyn closed his mouth, and his jaw tightened. “Fine,” he said blankly. Zipping up his jacket and reaching for the door, he stopped however, turned, and added, “Thank you, Trent. I guess you’ve helped me realize something. It seems you were always meant to be alone.”

 

Trent heard the door slam shut and flinched, wiping at his tears carelessly. Approaching the drawer beside his bed and opening it, Trent dug around until he found what he was looking for. It was a new bag of coke. Hopefully something stronger. He just wanted to feel numb. Completely. And this always made him feel better no matter what. It helped him forget. If only for a little while. Cutting a line and cursing the shaking in his hand, Trent snorted it and flung his head back, touching his nose and squeezing his eyes shut.

 

A grey fogginess took over, something that never happened for the first line for him. Suddenly the fog dulled and his breathing slowed, much too slow; Trent felt as though he were falling slowly through the floor, running out of breath. Something warm and sticky ran down his nose, and tentatively, he reached up to inspect it.

 

“Shit…” Trent heard himself say. His fingers were red when he pulled away. “Shit!” He thought he sounded more desperate this time though, not that it mattered. His breathing continued to slow, and he felt as though he were drowning. “Help…” he thought he screamed it, but it merely came out as a whimper. With his eyes rolling back into their sockets, Trent felt the room spin and tilt and then darkness covered him entirely.


End file.
